


Reincarnate

by On_Prozac



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Illegal Activities, Interrogation, M/M, Ramsay is his own warning, Stockholm Syndrome, The Author Regrets Nothing, Thramsay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/On_Prozac/pseuds/On_Prozac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>----------<br/>“We need to break your body to break into your mind”--Closet land, 1991<br/>----------</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reincarnate

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Closet Land(1991).

 

 

 

> _“And as for that sadness that can be felt in his every act, wasn’t it the incurable melancholy of a man who heard night after night the voice of Rachel weeping for her children and refusing all comfort? The lamentation would rend the night, Rachel would call her children who had been killed for him, and he was still alive!_
> 
>                                                                                                                                                                  –The Fall, Albert Camus”

 

 

The pain on his fingertips has gone after his interrogator forced him to drink down some unknown fluid. The taste of moisture is brilliant, especially for him who has been deprived of basic human needs for days ( _Weeks? Years? From his birth?_ ). He can feel the liquid running down his throat, slowly taking away his suffering. “Everything will be alright” says the substance, who in hallucination takes the form of his mother “Hush now. Hush.” Realizing that wailing won’t save him from the hell he is in, he finally let himself drowns to the comfort of exhaustion.

 

 _Lord has mercy…_ For months, he has been tortured by the bastard for months. There are scars shattered all over his skin, leaving his flesh exposed to the filth from outside world. _PAIN.PAIN.PAIN._ Too much pain, not only physical, but also corrupting his mind. Yes, he has learned to survive, at least making his life easier. Rule#1: _Never call his interrogator a bastard._ #2: _When he asks about names, NEVER EVER say that you’re Theon Greyjoy. No._ Every cut is a lesson, and the man has methods to make sure that Theon will never forget.

        

**_“We need to break your body to break into your mind”_ **

        

It starts with fingers, then limbs as well. He should have known this long time ago: finger-flaying is only the easiest. For his interrogator, his every body parts can be used for entertainment. _He is the lamb._

“I guess you would never walk like a normal man again, lord Greyjoy…hmm” the interrogator is looking down at him, murmurs the name like he is tasting it. Slap. “Do you enjoy it, the pain? I bet it feels better than losing fingers. As the old saying goes, the beginning is always the hardest. You’ll get used to it eventually, of course. I’ve already get used to it. Maybe sometimes you will find it amusing, I mean, you don’t really need to walk. Someday you will even thank me for doing these. ” More slaps.

 

Blood _screams_ inside his head, the entire world is spinning. Theon tries to focus on something else beside the stabbing pain on his broken ankle and the horror in his mind. _Rats. Rats are running. PAIN. They’re here. They live. They die. PAIN. Why there are so many RATS in this dungeon. Doors- Walls- candles- flame- PAIN.PAIN.PAIN.-_ “P-PLEASE…”

        

( _Will this ever come to an end?_ )

 

The walls are slowly moving toward each other. _I’m hallucinating again._ There are screams, but Theon is not sure if he is the one making these sounds. _It’s too much…_ His interrogator is laughing like a mad man. His lips are swelling and thick and terrifying. _Monstrous._ Theon can’t feel himself anymore; irreversible physical damage has sent him mind to drift away. _Will this ever come to an end?_

_(Just say something. Pleading. Begging. Whatever. Anything to make this stopstopstopstopSTOP)_

_“MERCY! MERCY-”_

“No mercy for you, my child,” The monster mocks, ”Unless you admit that you’re the one who killed the Starks. ”He grins, eyes widened, and despite the pain, Theon thinks of muddy water puddle. _You may think it’s only a piece of shadow, but it drowns you. Yes. Turbulent water. Violent water. Heartless…_

“Hey, skinner, Bring me a hammer.”

 

.

 

When Theon wakes up few hours ( _Days? Years? Eternity?_ ) later, he can concentrate again. _Has it rained?_ The wetness is all over his body. He touches his chest, there are letters carved into skin. The complete darkness makes him difficult to figure out the shape, when Theon trace the first letter with remaining fingers, he doesn’t even feel any pain.

 

… _R?_

 

Some names flashes by. _A building. Metaphors. car’s brand. Friends. R-R-e-i-n-c-a-r-n-a-t-e?_ Then he touches the second.

 

 _Ra_. God of the sun. _How long have I been trapped in here? Not a beam of sunlight will ever touches this hell. As for god, it simply doesn’t exist._

_(A name: R-a-msay.)_

_Ramsay the bastard. Ramsay the curel. Ramsay the devil the satan the interrogator--_

His spine shivers. _No._ The wetness is not rain water. Suddenly Theon begins to understand. Its smell is metallic and stinky. _Blood._ _I’m bleeding._ A horrifying feeling rises from his guts. _One day, until my blood runs dry, the last bit of self-consciousness will be gone as well. Who am I supposed to be then?_ Dying. Months ago, he even couldn’t accept the unavoidability of his upcoming death, but now, he finds himself difficult to cast aside the idea of cutting his wrist open.

 

 _If I give up now, I will never see the outside world again._ Despite this illegal interrogation, there are people who would believe in him when he denies that he murdered two Stark children. _I’m completely innocent_ —

 

“You’re awake, hugh?”

 

No.

 

\--nonononononoNONONONONONO!“ _Ramsay!_ ”

 

The man- Ramsay(?)- lets out a strangled laughter. “And nice to meet you too, reek” He doesn’t even bother to turn on the light, but then there’s a clicking sound. “Oops.” A flash of white pierces through the blindness. Theon’s eyes water, his amygdala is bursting with chemicals. He wants to scream, but instead only incoherent sounds come out from his broken lips “…N-N..No”

 

“It’s fine, fine, fine” the flashlight hisses through the damp floor, shadows spinning around. ”You know, I didn’t mean to hurt you. The flaying beating cutting shit, I don’t enjoy them as much as I used to. They say compulsory duty can ruin your motivation, yes, I got paid for torturing people. But it is not my intention to hurt you, and I’m not a workaholic, so…take it easy, alright? For now, I just want to, like, have some fun? ” He sits down next to Theon and takes out a pack of cigarette from his coat.

 

“What are you going to do to me?!” _Inhaling. Exhaling. Lighter. Inhaling._ Ramsay signs.

 

“Do you want to have a try?” he flips his fingers, displaying the thing before Theon’s eyes “This is your only chance.” _Repulsive._

 

“No.”

 

“Then how about something to drink?”

 

“No.”

 

The man shrugs again. “Too bad.” He put one hand _(!)_ on Theon’s back, rubbing slowly. “I’m only trying to be nice to you. Once you somehow manage to get out of here, we could be friends, even hang out someday. Going to pub and doing stuff, I don’t know.” Ramsay leans in, weight pressing on Theon’s body. _Even his presence hurts._ Before Theon could understand what is happening, he finds himself already shaking involuntarily.

 

_(Please no Please somebody oh help me God help me!)_

 

“I think I’m under too much pressure.” Ramsay sneers, his one hand slides to Theon’s waist while the other still holding the unfinished cigarette. “Oh dear, think about all the trouble that stress can bring us: depression, anxiety disorder, neuritis. Nobody will benefit from this. So,” He pauses, as if lingering on Theon’s panic. “You need better perform a friend’s duty, helping me relax a little.”

 

Theon closes his eyes. _Think about something peaceful. Think about the seashore, birthday parties, mother’s gentle kisses, the universe, the red haired boy. Happy memories. HAPPY MEMORIES…”AHH! NO!”_

“You’re overreacting.” Ramsay snuffed out the cigarette and tossed it away. “It only a cigarette burn on your neck!”

 

 ** _It_** _-_ (What a beautiful day perfect for outdoor activities I love)- ** _hurts_** _-_ (the sunshine and I love the rain Flowers daisies and jasmine so many flowers and dreams) _-try to focus on something peaceful. Poetry. Ease to the body and to the mind. PAIN! Ease to the body but none to the mind!_

 

“Please…Please…just…leave me alone please” _This is so humiliating._ Tears are blurring his vision, Theon could not stop sobbing- now wailing and crying. He is bleeding fast. _I don’t want to die today._

_Swat._ “On your belly. The less you struggle, the less pain you will receive”

 

He obeys.

 

.

 

**_“We need to break your body to break into your mind”_ **

 

.

 

Theon stares at the ceiling above. Unblinking. _Too much…_ Everything hurts, as if something inside him is about to pierce though his body and come out. It’s wriggling now, like a child. Growing and absorbing and laughing at his unbearable misery. _You can’t… You have to give up…now._

 

He shivers.

 

“Don’t worry” Says Ramsay. And he feels a soft touch on his eyelids. A blindfold. “You won’t need these anymore.” He whines; the interrogator puts a finger between his parted lips. He Whines.

 

 _Right. I don’t really need these anymore._ Inside, his self- inconsistency is taking shape, ready to reincarnate.

 

“No…” Theon grits his teeth, but the word came out almost a whisper.

 

And the other man only chuckles.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I sucks at the language and write trash.So don't be harsh pls pls pls pls pls


End file.
